Happy
by MrsMCrieff
Summary: Sherlock comes across Molly in the lab dancing and singing to music on her iPod. A bit of fluffy Sherlolly to brighten up your day.


**Here's a happy little one shot for you all based on Pharrell William's Happy song. I just fancied a bit of fluff.**

**Happy**

Molly would have sworn she was alone in the lab, but if she had to be honest she hadn't really been paying much attention.

She wasn't officially working, which explains why she had her earphones in listening to music on her iPod and why she was casually dressed. She'd volunteered for some overtime stock-checking all the chemicals and other paraphernalia in the labs as well as checking all the equipment for faults. The extra money was going to go towards Molly's holiday fund.

Her plan, this year, was to finally visit Egypt. She'd always had a fascination for Egyptology. It was the Egyptian death rituals and the embalming process that had first triggered her interest in the dead and then in pathology.

So here she was, it was just after 7pm and all was quiet. Mike was on duty tonight in the morgue downstairs and the rest of the pathology unit was empty so she'd plugged in her music and was singing and occasionally dancing her way through the work.

SHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock had been out of sorts for a while though he couldn't quite work out why. He knew part of it was to do with John moving back in with Mary. They'd had the baby and whilst he still saw a lot of John it wasn't quite the same, he wasn't John's priority anymore.

Mrs Hudson meanwhile was still seeing her gentleman friend; she still came up far too often for a cup of tea and a chat. He much preferred it when she just brought tea and cake and left but neither occasion seemed to be as frequent as they once were.

Today had been a typically boring eventless day at Baker St. John and come over, gone through the emails and the non-existent cases and left again. Mrs Hudson had brought tea and cake and had chatted about her interminable love life until he'd persuaded her to go away.

He'd phoned Lestrade and begged him to find him a case, to no avail and he'd almost...almost called his brother. So once again, as he often did, he found himself getting dressed and going to Barts to check on his experiments.

He honestly hadn't expected Molly to be there. He knew her shift pattern and she'd been due to finish at 5pm. But when he entered the lab the lights were on and there she was, stood in front of one of the cupboards where the chemicals were stored, holding a clipboard and a pen.

'Molly,' he said curtly by way of a greeting. He made his way to his normal bench and then realised that not only had Molly not replied but that she appeared to be humming whilst swaying her hips from side to side.

He quickly deduced that she was listening to music so he threw down his coat and started to pull out his cultures and set up his microscope.

'Because I'm happy, clap along if you feel like a room without a roof...'

Sherlock looked up again as Molly burst into what was obviously the chorus of the song she was listening to. He wasn't familiar with it but whatever it was seemed to be a current favourite given the way she was singing along and now openly dancing.

Her ponytail was bobbing from shoulder to shoulder, the clipboard and pen raised up in the air. Then she bent her knees and stuck out her bum before moving it provocatively from side to side in time with some beat that Sherlock couldn't hear.

He had to admit that she had a very attractive backside. For once she was wearing a pair of fitted jeans and a slit necked t shirt rather than hiding away in her awful baggy beige trousers and even worse jumpers and cardigans.

As she turned slightly to one side he could see her breasts bouncing slightly and he found his mouth was suddenly dry. He swallowed self-consciously as for the first time he saw Molly as a sexual being rather than just a friend and a work colleague.

Without even meaning too his eyes were raking up and down her body and his brain was conjuring up the kind of images and scenarios that only ever afflicted him when he was asleep and no longer in tight control of his emotions and hormones.

She seemed very slight and petite as she writhed around in front of him and he had a sudden burst of possessiveness and protectiveness. She was so fragile, how easy it would be for someone to hurt her. This led him on to a visceral memory of Molly introducing him, unwittingly, to Moriarty in this very room. The man who had almost killed him, who had threatened his very existence had held his Molly, kissed his Molly. He clenched his fists unconsciously, bile rising in his throat.

He'd never really given any thought to the reality of Molly's relationships before but now he had thoughts of that fool, Tom, pawing at her, his naked body moving over hers, possessing her.

He closed his eyes and tried to banish the images. What was happening to him? He opened his eyes and once again his gaze was drawn back to Molly.

Her cream t-shirt had slipped to the side, almost off her right shoulder. He could see the bronze strap of her bra standing out again the milky white of her skin and he wondered briefly what her skin would taste like.

He imagined his tongue trailing down the slim column of her neck, his hand sliding that strap off her shoulder as he kissed the skin at the base of her neck, his palm moving over her breast...

'Oh God, Sherlock. How long have you been there?'

He snapped out of his trance to find that Molly had turned round and was quickly pulling the earphones out. He could faintly make out the tinny sounds of the song she'd been singing, a blush had spread across her cheeks and he had to admit it was very endearing.

He half made to stand up before he realised that he had reacted physically, as well as mentally, to her gyrations and his dress trousers would in no way mask it.

'Long enough Molly,' he smirked, 'carry on, don't mind me.'

She smiled at him and wandered over, 'I'm just checking the stock levels, it's quite boring work, hence the music.' She waved her hand towards the iPod sticking out of her pocket. 'Are you working on a case? Do you need anything?'

_Yes, I need to kiss you then take you to bed._ Sherlock gulped wondering where that thought had come from. 'I...err..n..no I'm just checking my experiment.' _Dear God am I stuttering. I sound like Molly when she was infatuated with me_. 'It was too boring at Baker St, I had to get out.'

Molly didn't seem to notice Sherlock's strange reaction; instead she came and stood next to him. She was no closer than normal but he was suddenly hyper aware of her, he could smell her, almost touch her. She'd obviously showered after her shift, as she often did to remove the smell of the morgue, and he could pick up the scent of her strawberry body wash.

She leant over to look at one of the Petri dishes and he knew she was talking about how the growths had reacted to the various chemicals but he couldn't seem to concentrate on her words. Instead he was fascinated by her mouth, the way her lips moved, the edges quirking up into that familiar smile, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. She glanced up at him as she spoke before looking back down at the table and he was left with the impression of how open and caring and friendly she always was with him.

'Sherlock...Sherlock, are you OK?'

Molly put her hand on his arm and he realised she was staring at him again. This time she had a worried expression, her forehead was creased and her eyes were travelling over his face as though checking for symptoms.

'I..erm..yes I'm fine. I'm just distracted.'

She stood up quickly moving away from him, her face falling slightly as she smiled and said, 'sorry, I'm getting in your way. I'll get on with my...'

This time it was Sherlock who reached out for her. He caught her hand before she moved too far away. She halted and looked down at where they were connected, before looking back at him quizzically.

Sherlock suddenly felt hot and prickly, his heart felt like it was beating in his throat, he didn't quite know what he wanted to say or how to proceed he just knew that he didn't want her to leave.

'No, don't go...' He cast about for some reason for her to stay. 'Coffee, would you like a coffee?'

Molly rolled her eyes, 'fine, I'll go get you one. I know, black two sugars, you really don't have to keep telling me, I know how you like your coffee after five years.'

Once again he stopped her by maintaining his hold on her hand. 'No, that's not what I meant. I mean, Molly, would you like coffee... with me?'

She narrowed her eyes at him and bit her lip. 'With you? I'm sorry I'm not getting it.'

He didn't blame her. He knew what she saw when she looked at him. The emotionless machine, the one who had rejected her over and over, the man who was married to his work. But he was starting to see that that was his problem. Everyone else was moving on with their lives, developing relationships, exploring new aspects of life and he wasn't. He was just stagnating, yes his work was important to him but it was no longer the only thing that mattered. His friends mattered, he'd almost died to save them...twice.

And Molly, his Molly. He wasn't sure when exactly she'd become his Molly but he was just starting to realise that she was, that she should be.

He got to his feet and looked at her as she looked in confusion back at him. 'I think that I'm just starting to get it. Molly Hooper, will you have coffee with me?' He put his other hand up to her face cupping her cheek as his thumb grazed her cheekbone. Slowly, as though not to spook her he leant forward and pressed his lips to hers. It was brief and chaste, just a touch of lips but it felt so right.

He pulled back and looked into her eyes seeing a slow realisation sweep aside the bewilderment.

'Oh'.

He smiled at her before he kissed her again. This time he allowed the kiss to develop. He kept one hand on her face but his other slid around to her back pulling her closer to him. Her mouth opened to him and he could taste mint and tea and he felt as though he could lose himself forever in her kiss. His eyes had closed and all he could hear and touch was Molly. He heard every sigh, he felt as her hands gripped his back before one hand made its way up to his hair. Then he heard himself groan as she pulled his curls and scraped his scalp with her nails and for the first time in as long as he could remember he felt happy.

**And there you go, hope you like it. Let me know**


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